


ATTACK of the INEXORABLE FANON!

by Temporarily



Category: South Park
Genre: Alternate Universe, And a happy ending, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Chaos, Crack, Craig's Gang, Cute Kids, Disaster Gays, Dumb Drama, First of all:, Fluff, Friendship, HEED THESE WARNINGS!:, Humor, Imp Tweek Tweak, Implied Non-Con, Implied Sexual Content, Just straight up chaos, M/M, Making fun of fanon, One Shot, Parody, RIP Satan, Romance, Sexual Humor, This Is STUPID, but mostly crack, but there's also, references to old episodes, the main four
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-02-23 01:35:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23436976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Temporarily/pseuds/Temporarily
Summary: When Craig and Tweek find that they are the only ones unaffected as fanon takes over South Park, it’s up to them to save the day.
Relationships: Christophe "The Mole"/Gregory of Yardale, Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak, Kenny McCormick/Leopold "Butters" Stotch, Kyle Broflovski/Everyone, Phillip "Pip" Pirrip/Damien Thorn, Phillip Argyle & Terrance Stoot, Thomas (South Park: Le Petite Tourette) & Craig Tucker, Thomas (South Park: Le Petite Tourette) & Tweek Tweak, Timmy Burch & Jimmy Valmer, Token Black/Clyde Donovan, and more - Relationship
Comments: 4
Kudos: 59





	ATTACK of the INEXORABLE FANON!

**Author's Note:**

> This is the part where the author excuses their outlandish ideas by saying: I wrote this in a haze of sleep-deprived mania over the course of two nights more than two years ago, forgot about it completely, and then found it again in my folders.  
> So yes. That happened. Here you go sp fandom, this is my magnum opus. I hope you’re happy.

Craig and Tweek woke up one morning, met up with Jimmy at the bus stop for school, and soon determined that everything had gone to hell overnight. 

It started when Clyde and Token showed up and announced that they were dating. Which was chill at first, Craig and Tweek were happy for their friends and wanted to be supportive— (Well, Craig shrugged and said, “Good for you, I don’t care,” which was about as supportive as he got)—but something felt... off. Off in the way they smiled, plastic. In the way they wouldn’t meet each other’s eyes. Then they started making out. A lot. With their friends standing _right there_. 

They stood there with Jimmy and wallowed in their deep and mutual discomfort. Jimmy couldn’t even bring himself to crack any jokes about the situation.

Then the bus came, and they noticed Stan’s group appeared to be having its own drama. Kyle Brofloski was trying to climb over the bus seat to get away from his three friends, who were pulling him back down and appeared to be trying to kiss him. “HELP ME!” Kyle shrieked. He’d lost his hat somewhere in the commotion. “I DON’T WANT TO BE THE BICYCLE OF THIS FANDOM!” Kyle lost his grip and went under with a scream worthy of a horror film. Craig and Tweek shared a look but went to go sit down while they left Token and Clyde to do their thing in the seats behind them, and Jimmy found solace in his phone across the aisle. 

“H-hey Craig?”

“Yeah, honey?”

“Where are all the girls?” Craig looked around and frowned when he realized that there wasn’t a single girl on the bus. 

“Weird. Maybe they all got cooties and had to stay home?”

“Nngh, don’t be gross Craig! This is bad! W-what if they were ABDUCTED by ALIENS, GAAAH!”

“Hey, Tweek, it’s okay. I’m sure the girls are all at school already. And even if they were abducted by aliens, maybe they’re nice?” It was a frequent argument between the two—not if aliens were real, but whether they were curious extraterrestrial life forms or menacing scientists looking to probe human children. Tweek didn’t even want to bring it up again. He just shuddered and said, 

“I hope so. Oh, God...” 

When they got to school, the girls were not there. But there _were_ several people who hadn’t been seen in South Park for _ages._

“Holy shit, is that Thomas?” It was indeed. Craig lit up when he saw his one-episode-long friend and started dragging Tweek over to his locker. “You remember Thomas right babe?” 

“The guy with—nngh!—Tourette's? Yeah, I thought he lived in North Park? What’s he—gyah! What’s he doing here?!” 

“I don’t know, but this is going to be awesome. He once called Chris Hansen an asshole-licking dickfart to his face,” Craig said, his voice ringing with pure admiration. Tweek snickered and followed Craig as he made his way over. 

Thomas didn’t see them approaching until he slammed his locker shut, and when he did, he jumped three feet in the air.

“AAHH-SHIT!”

“Hey, Thomas.” 

“Craig! Hi! What’s up—COCK—oh god I’m so sorry—” 

“Hey, it’s cool, I don’t care. This is Tweek—do you remember Tweek?”

“Yeah, kind of. We got sent out in the hall together once for disrupting class.” He smiled, and Tweek gave him a nervous wave. “Good times.”

“Which teacher was that?”

“Garrison, who else? SHIT—” Craig nodded.

“Yeah, that guy was an asshole.” Thomas glanced at their joined hands and asked, 

“So, are you guys a thing now?” Craig shrugged, but Tweek didn’t miss the way he showed the barest hint of a smile. 

“Yeah. The whole town kind of started shipping us so we figured we’d go along with it.”

“I-it was fucking crazy man! Like getting a hundred stalkers all at once—GAH!” Tweek genuinely couldn’t tell if Thomas’s expression was relieved or disappointed. 

“Shit man, that sounds terrifying.” 

“W-w-well after a few months you kind of... Get used to it.” That was a small lie. Tweek hated those god damn shippers. He was paranoid enough without people watching him all the time!

“Hey Thomas, how long will you be in South Park for?” Craig asked. 

“Oh—COCK—I don’t know. It could be a few days.” Tweek furrowed his brow; he wanted to ask why Thomas bothered coming to school if he was only staying for a few days. That made no sense. 

“Cool. You should hang out with us, Token, Clyde, and Jimmy. Although Token and Clyde are kind of...” He looked at Tweek, and they shared a mutual wince. “Right now.”

“Um, Craig? You don’t...” Thomas looked at his shoes and scuffed them across the linoleum. “You don’t still think I’m cool just because of my Tourette's, do you?”

 _“Dude._ You tricked a bunch of pedophiles into shooting themselves live on national television. You are SO cool. Nothing gets cooler than that.” 

“That was more Kyle’s plan than mine...” the blond mumbled, cheeks red. 

“You should t-take the compliment,” Tweek told him. “Craig is pretty much indifferent to everyone all the time so—Nnngh—if _he_ likes you, then you must be awesome.” 

“Tweek, honey.”

“What?”

“You know you’re awesome, right?” It took Tweek a moment to reverse-engineer the implications of that statement.

“Oh SHUT UP—” Tweek shoved his burning face into his hands. Thomas smiled and said,

“Okay then—FUCKING SHIT—sure. I’d love to hang with you all sometime.”

“Sweet.” They exchanged handles and made plans to make plans before hurrying off to their classes, where Tweek and Craig were once again reminded of the distinct lack of any girls. 

“Seriously Craig this is starting to—GYAH—freak me out!”

“I’m sure they’re fine cupcake,” Craig muttered, although he recalled how he hadn’t seen his sister at all that morning and started to feel a little bit of dread. 

About halfway through the period, Kyle walked in. He looked haunted. Kenny poked his head around the doorway and winked at Butters, who immediately leaped out of his seat and ran after him. The teacher didn’t even bat an eye. Craig and Tweek shared another look; things kept getting weirder and weirder. And this was _South Park._

They didn’t normally have their next class together, but Craig’s teacher told him he’d gotten transferred to Tweek’s class. “Goddamn shipper ladies in the office messing with our schedule...” Craig muttered. But he didn’t complain too much. They walked into Tweek’s next class only to find another familiar face:

“AHHHH-- P-p-PIP!?”

“Whatsit and cheerio my good chaps!” Pip waved cheerfully from his seat at the back of the class. Craig narrowed his eyes. 

“I thought you were crushed by Mecha Streisand you British pouf.”

“You’d be quite right about that one, although I hope you recognize that calling me a poufter makes you a fair bit hypocritical.”

“W-w-hat are you doing here?!” Tweek shrieked like he was expecting Pip to turn into a zombie or a vengeful spirit any second now. 

“Oh, I’m just waiting for Damien! He’s supposed to be here, but I think he’s hiding in his father’s basement.”

“Damn. That’s a long way down,” Craig said with a perfect deadpan. 

“Why yes, it is! It’s a bit disappointing really. He was _supposed_ to be here,” Pip said with a pout. Craig and Tweek decided to ignore him for the rest of the class. 

By recess, things had only gotten worse. 

“SHEET SHEET SHEET SHEET SHEET!” The Mole cursed as he ran by, “WHY CAN’T I ZAY SHEET NORMALEMENT!?! WHY CAN’T I ZTOP ZPEAKING WITH ZESE ‘ORRIBLE ZEDS!?!? FUCK YOU GOD, YOU MASSIVE CUNT, JE NE SAIS PAS CE QUE VOUS AVEZ FAIT MAIS ZIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!!!” 

“Wait for me my love!~” Gregory sang, chasing after him. Craig and Tweek looked around. Now that those two were gone, the playground was a dustbowl. They wandered over to the gate to see the entire town in chaos. 

It seemed Damien had gotten kicked out of the basement because everything was on fire. Cartman was laughing maniacally: He appeared to have abducted Kyle in some grand evil plot and Kenny and Stan were trying to get him back. They were all in their superhero outfits. Jimmy and Timmy were on a rampage, zipping around and spewing jokes. Chef was back and belting out a song about his chocolate salty balls with Ms. Cartman on his arm—although it looked like she was going to be a lot closer to him soon. Officer Barbrady and the Mayor were getting equally frisky in City Hall, in front of an open window, where everyone could see and hear. The PC babies were nowhere in sight which was never a good sign. If they had been present, they would have been crying up a storm. 

The seniors had broken out of their living center and were trying to drive—there were casualties left right and center. Towelie and Randy were being abducted by aliens. Clyde and Token were now several years older and making out in an expensive car. Damien swooped out of nowhere on bat wings and snatched up Pip. Tweek saw his dad giving out free meth. For some reason, Terrence and Phillip were blowing people up with their farts and shitty humor. And Butters was being pursued by psychotic satanic animals and underwear gnomes. 

That was just what they could see from the _school_.

Craig moved to cover Tweek’s eyes. Tweek batted him away. **“HOLY SHIT ITS ARMAGEDDON!!!”**

“This is fine,” Craig said weakly, “Everything is fine.”

“CRAIG, WE HAVE TO GET OUT OF HERE!” Tweek didn’t have to tell his boyfriend twice. They ran past the goth kids trying to summon Cthulhu in the parking lot by sacrificing the clitoris, jumped the fence, and disappeared into the woods right as Gregory started up a musical number.

The last sane characters left in South Park sat by a creek in silence, contemplating their situation.

“Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh...” Well, not complete silence. Tweek had been low-key screaming ever since they escaped, for very valid reasons. Craig absentmindedly played with Tweek’s hair as he tried to process everything they’d just seen. “Oh god oh god oh god Craig, what if we can never go back?! H-h-how are we going to survive the apocalypse?! GYAAAAGH!”

“We’ll be okay Tweek, just give me a few minutes to think…” Tweek shuddered and gave one last twitchy shriek before flopping against his boyfriend’s side. He tried to match their breathing, and that calmed him a bit. God, he couldn’t even bake if they were out here. Should they go scavenging for supplies in the decrepit mall, or the Amazon fulfillment center? Would it be worth the risk, or would they be taken over by the insanity the town had fallen under too? “Okay, I have it.”

“GAH! An idea for finding weapons to defend ourselves with?! W-we should try Jimbo’s shack, it’s out of the way and fucking _full_ of guns and grenades. But—hnnn—if they’re acting weird too, it could be dangerous—”

“An idea about why this is happening.”

“Oh. That’s good. That’s really good Craig!” Craig’s face went pink and he tugged at the strings of his hat.

“It’s kind of a dumb idea.”

“N-no, I’m sure it’s fine! Tell me!” Craig took a deep breath.

“Okay. This kind of reminds me of before. The last time the whole town went crazy and it seemed like we were the only sane ones left.” Tweek’s eyes widened.

“Y-you mean, when they all started shipping us?!”

“Yeah, exactly. I think that... Maybe… Our universe is becoming fanon.” 

“Oh God! We’re SCREWED!”

“In a very literal sense if we get aged up like Clyde and Token.”

“AHHHHK! N-NOPE! Just—so much nope!”

“I know coffee bean, I’m right there with you. I mean, for fuck’s sake we’re all _children._ God, I hate this stupid town…” Tweek shivered and eyed the surrounding trees. Maybe this wasn’t the best place to come. He kept thinking of those Satan-worshiping forest animals. Then he remembered that those animals were a product of Cartman’s sadistic mind. Then he wondered what was going on with those guys right now—and stopped himself. It was too horrible to imagine.

“D-do you think Kyle will be okay?” Craig snorted. 

“Nope.” 

“Do you know why _we’re_ okay? I mean— _oh Jesus_. Out of the whole town, why us!? Why haven’t we lost our minds?!”

“Well… If this universe in becoming fanon... Then maybe we’re unaffected because Creek is both fanon and canon.” Tweek stared at him.

“That is some mystic-sounding bullshit Craig.”

“You got a better explanation?”

“Hnn! No.”

“Well, there you go.” They sat in silence for a bit. Since he wasn’t quite so terrified, Tweek inched away from Craig’s side but still held his hand.

“So how—hnnng. How do we fix this?”

“Not a clue.”

“Well _shit_ .” Tweek heard a rustling above them and whipped his head up to see a raccoon. It was reaching down from the lowest branch, paws outstretched for the thermos in his backpack. _“Craig,”_ Tweek hissed. “There’s a _raccoon.”_ Craig looked over his shoulder. 

“Yeah? So?”

 _“Any animal we come across could be a satanic cultist!”_ Craig stared at the raccoon. The raccoon stared back. It crunched up its snout and chattered at him.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a raccoon babe.”

 _“It’s trying to steal my coffee!”_ Craig picked up a pinecone and tossed it in the raccoon’s direction. The little bandit spooked and disappeared back into the tree. 

“See? Just a raccoon.” Maybe so, but Tweek still didn’t trust anything. Although… The mask and the insistent, insolent tone of that animal’s chatter reminded him of someone…

“H-hey, do you—hnnngh!—you remember that masked guy from a few seasons back?”

“Oh yeah, Reality. We hung that bitch.” 

“Y-y-yeah! And I—gyah! I couldn’t shake the feeling the entire time that we were going to regret it one day.” Craig nodded in agreement.

“Things did seem to get crazier after we hung Reality. At least, during the year of the election. Then it got pretty much normal again.” Tweek jumped up in a classic lightbulb moment. 

“C-Craig! Holy shit man, I think I know what to do!” 

“What?”

“We need to resurrect Reality!”

Tweek and Craig made their way back through town. Tweek huddled close as the ChickenLover’s van prowled by emitting eerily cheerful music. 

“Craig, h-how do you know we’ll stay ourselves?”

“Relax Tweek. We are both fanon and canon, remember? Nothing can touch us.” They approached the house where Pip used to live what felt like years ago. Because if they could find Pip, chances were they’d find the Antichrist as well. 

Tweek could barely recall the boxy Edwardian that had been flipped and resold several times since. Pip and Butters had been kindred spirits of a sort when they were all younger, much to Tweek’s reluctance. Unable to find acceptance in any of the cliques at school, they’d play together at stuffy adult parties where the kids were banished to the basement. 

Then Tweek started hanging out with Craig and his friends, while Butters was partial to Cartman and his group. And Pip was crushed into jelly with a red jacket. 

They were probably all better off. 

So, all in all, it was a miracle he was able to remember where to go but find the house they did. Craig pummeled the door without preamble. “Hey Damien, you demonic piece of shit! Stop fooling around with the limey Brit and open up, we need to talk to your dad.” After a few minutes of knocking and shouting an adult Damien opened the door in nothing but his boxers. A red-faced adult Pip in a bathrobe scampered up the stairs. 

“What do you brats want?” the Antichrist growled. Craig turned green. 

_“Oh my god_ , you were actually—” 

“GAH, FUCK, W-w-we, WE NEED TO TALK TO SATAN!” Tweek shrieked. It was only for one episode, but he remembered what this guy was capable of. He did NOT want to become a platypus. Today was awful enough as it was.

Damien’s scowl deepened. “Satan’s dead, remember? He got killed by Manbearpig. I’m the King of Hell now.” 

“Fuck. Time for me to become Mormon.” Tweek elbowed his boyfriend in the side as a reminder not to piss off the guy they were trying to get help from.

“A-are you sure? He’s really REALLY dead? Because I thought, with you and everyone else here—” 

“Nope, Dad’s dead, now fuck off.” Damien started to close the door. Tweek blocked it with his shoe and shrieked,

“WAIT!” 

“God damn it, why does everyone expect me to solve their problems because I’m the Antichrist!? That is the OPPOSITE of what I do! Why don’t you try bothering Jesus for a change?”

“Jesus is dead too,” Craig reminded him. With both Satan and Jesus gone, the Antichrist was now the most powerful being in South Park. Of _course_ they were going to go to him for help. 

Damien tilted his head and furrowed his oversized eyebrows. “Shit. Is he?”

“I think he died like, five times,” Tweek said. Jesus had a bad habit of dying when it was most inconvenient.

“Fuck. That means I can’t kill the wuss myself. Arrrrrrrrrrgh. Fine. I guess I should start being a responsible ruler of Hell and all that shit. What do you want, puny mortals?” the King of Hell asked with the kind of flat-lining sarcasm that even Craig could admire.

“We need to bring back Reality,” the boy in blue said. Damien brightened considerably. 

“Oh, that’s all? That’s easy! I can do that for you in a jiff—” he cut himself off, wrinkling his nose in disgust. “God damn it Pip’s speech patterns are rubbing off on me.” The sex joke would be so, so easy to make but Craig resisted. “I’d be happy to bring back Reality for you. I’ve had enough of this fanon bullshit.” 

“B-but, what about Pip?” Tweek asked.

“What about him? Before all this, I didn’t give two shits about Pip Pirrup. Now I _care,_ ” Damien said this with a sneer full of contempt. “I’ve got all these disgusting voices running around in my head telling me he’s my soulmate. Demons don’t _have_ soulmates. I’m the Antichrist, for fuck’s sake. I don’t have time for this bullshit. At least before all this, it was...” He looked over his shoulder at where Pip had disappeared, and his expression softened into something that could almost be considered human. “It was different. We were just kids. I miss the way it used to be.” Because before fanon took over, Damien Thorne didn’t give two shits about Pip Pirrup. But he might have given one, singular shit, and that was one more shit than he gave regarding everything else.

“So you’ll help us?” Craig asked. The Antichrist smirked maliciously. 

“Sure. But it will come at a price.” Fuck. “In exchange for resurrecting Reality, you will have to give up—”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Craig interrupted. 

“CRAIG!!!”

“He wants our souls Tweek, I’m not letting you get dragged down to hell—”

“Ew, no, why would I want your _souls?_ ” Damien said with an intense look of disgust like he’d just discovered year-old moldy pudding in the back of the fridge.

“…Oh.” Craig felt like a dumbass. 

“If you would let me _finish,_ I was going to tell you that you will have to give up some of your canonicity.” 

“GYAH! What does that MEAN?”

“It means you both will become a little more fanon.” The two boys stared at the Antichrist, who was still standing there awkwardly in his boxers, but by now it had been so long no one wanted to mention it. Tweek wondered if they should have gone to the Goth Kids for help instead.

“Okay.”

“CRAIG!!!”

“Think about it sweetie, if Reality comes back after this, everything will be canon again anyway, so we’ll go back to being ourselves. Right?” Damien nodded. “Um, not that I’m complaining, but why would you make a deal with such an obvious loophole?” Craig asked. 

“Because the Author wants a happy ending once this shitstorm of misery is over.”

“…Oooooookay.” 

“Nnnnngh, I don’t like this! How fanon will we be?”

“Depends,” Damien said with a shrug. “You might conform to a popular headcanon. Tweek might become an adult, move to Denver for college and work part-time as a barista. Your character was pretty much made for coffee shop AUs. Craig might become an astronaut. But those are just examples. I have no fucking clue what will happen.” The two boyfriends shared a look.

“B-but one way or another, it won’t last forever, right?” 

“Nope. Only until Reality gets things back on track. I wouldn’t expect him to work fast though, he’s kind of incompetent. Now, who wants to go first?” Craig squeezed his boyfriend’s hand. 

“I’ll go first Tweek. Then once we see how I’ve turned out you can decide if you want to go through with this.” Tweek let out a stressed shriek. If he decided not to make the deal after Craig became fanon, then this all would have been for nothing! But who knows what might happen to him? It was a wild card. He was letting forces he barely understood fundamentally change him and that was _terrifying!_

But it was too late to stop. Damien had already snapped his fingers. 

At first, Craig didn’t feel any different. Then his throat started to burn, and he doubled over coughing. 

“CRAIG?! CRAIG OH MY GOD ARE YOU OKAY ARE YOU DYING?! AHHHH SHIT FUCK I KNEW THIS WAS A BAD IDEA—” Craig felt a weight in his jacket pocket and he noticed that his blue hoodie had turned into black leather. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter.

“…Well, shit. Guess I’m addicted to nicotine now.” Tweek _shrieked_. 

“OH SWEET JESUS CRAIG WHAT IF YOU GET LUNG CANCER?! WHAT IF YOUR TEETH FALL OUT AND YOU SPEND ALL YOUR MONEY JUST TO GET A FIX SO THEN YOU START STEALING TO FEED YOUR ADDICTION AND—” 

“Tweek, baby, honey, sweet-pea I’m _fine,_ ” Craig said, wrapping Tweek up in a hug. “Here,” he handed him the pack of cigarettes. “Hold onto these for me.”

“Nnnnnnngh!” Tweek fumbled the cigarettes away into his pants pocket. “Oh god I—I don’t want you to get lung cancer and die on me man!” 

“Are you _done yet?_ ” Damien asked. “Because you’re up next.” Tweek took a deep breath. 

“ _Hnnnnnnnnng_. O-okay, I’m ready.”

“Are you sure Tweek? Because I’m okay, you don’t have to—"

“Too late!” Damien said, snapping his fingers. God, what a dick, Craig thought. Tweek squeezed his eyes shut. When he opened them, he immediately felt _very different_.

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

“Huh. You turned into an imp,” Damien observed. “I didn’t know the shippers were into that.” Craig eyed the area where the pack of cigarettes had gone. Tweek’s pants were nowhere to be seen, replaced by furry goat legs. 

“Well. At least I don’t have anything to smoke now.” 

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHOH SWEET JESUS I HAVE A TAIL! AND HORNS!!!”

“I think your horns are cute b.” 

“AHHAHGHHAHAHAHAHHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”

Two best friends, sitting on the swings, comforting each other because they’re both very gay. 

“It’s not the end of the world Tweek.”

“I’m an _imp_!”

“But you can fly now.” Tweek gave an experimental flap of his wings and the swing moved back and forward.

“Hnnnn. I guess.” Damien had sent them off with the vague and unhelpful directive that “Reality would find them.” They didn’t stick around long after that. Thankfully, the playground was deserted. 

Tweek’s stomach growled. 

“We never got to eat lunch and it’s dinner time,” Craig realized. 

“Y-yeah. Well. Armageddon’s a b-bitch, you know?” Craig smiled and flipped off Armageddon. He frowned when he realized his middle finger was shaking. 

“...Why am I all jittery?”

“I’m always jittery.”

“I know Tweek, but that’s because your parents mix meth with your coffee.” Tweek shrugged, reached for his cold thermos and took a sip. Craig looked at his shaking hands and laughed. He leaned over to kiss Tweek’s forehead and the blond leaned into the gesture. “God, we really are gay disasters.”

“Yeah? Well, these gay disasters are saving this whole—nngh!—motherfucking town!” Tweek took another sip and sighed. The coffee tasted like shit, as always, but it was calming. 

He spilled it all over himself when a corny cartoon villain popped up behind them with a nefarious laugh. “SHIT!”

“Hoohoohoohoohoo, I am Reality!” 

“About time you got here,” Craig said with a glare. “We need you to make everything canon again.” 

“Oh well then fuck you too, I was getting repeatedly dunked in a lava pit in the fires of hell, but I suppose I should just solve all your problems now that you’ve brought me back hmmm? Not like I have anything better to do with my time.”

“Nnnn, do you?” Tweek asked.

“No, are you fucking kidding me? An entire town full of fanon-addled idiots are on the loose and I get to ruin all their fun, this is better than Christmas. But if you expect me to bring back canon, I’m going to need some help—” Tweek screeched in protest. 

_“Hell no,”_ Craig said. Reality scowled at them.

“Come on, you really expect me to travel to Imagination Land to kill the Queen of Fiction by myself? Don’t be moronic—” 

“There is no way in hell we are going to Imagination Land.” 

“B-but, the fanon! It’s uncontrollable, even for me—” 

“I don’t wanna hear it man!” Tweek said. “I’ve got hooves! Just do your job and get rid of them!” 

“…fuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyoufuckyou,” Reality grumbled as he slunk away. Both boys relaxed, having avoided another dumb adventure. 

“H-how long do you think it’ll—gah!—take?”

“For that guy to kill a magical Queen? Don’t get your hopes up.”

“D-do you think we should have helped him?” They both look back in Reality’s direction. He’d just narrowly avoided getting hit by a senior citizen in a minivan.

“Pft, nah. Let’s just hope he doesn’t get himself killed, or we might have to make another deal, and you might end up as a Barbarian Imp.” Tweek shuddered. 

“Hnnnn! I’m good, thanks. Although…” He looked at the top of the play structure. “I do want to try to fly.” Craig stood up and offered his boyfriend a hand. 

“Wanna go to my house? I can make macaroni and we can eat on the roof. If we’re lucky it’ll be just us since Tricia disappeared with all the other girls, and God knows what my parents are up to.” Tweek took Craig’s hand and they started walking, ignoring the parade of vehicles racing Mad Max style down Main Street. Dr. Chaos cackled as he took the lead, only for Mysterion to dive into his car from the one just behind him. Who even knew what that was all about?

“Ahhhhh. I hope Reality remembers to bring back all the girls. This sucks man. I miss Wendy.”

“Same, Tricia’s a little shit and Red’s the worst cousin but flipping the bird just isn’t the same without them.” Tweek smiled at his boyfriend fondly. “…What? The hell are you looking at me like that for?”

“You’re a big softie.” Craig’s face went pink and he squeezed the hand he was holding.

“…Only for you, cupcake.” Tweek sighed as Craig’s house came in sight, only minimally charred. One way or another, everything would be alright by next week.

And it was. “CLYDE! TOKEN! Thank Jesus—you’re not horny teenagers anymore!” Clyde groaned as he walked up to the bus stop with red and puffy eyes.

“Don’t talk to me. I hate myself.”

“He only stopped crying from embarrassment about half an hour ago,” Token explained. 

“You seem surprisingly cool with this,” Craig observed. The rich boy shrugged. 

“Well. Everything that happened was outside our control, so I’m not gonna sweat it. Besides, it could have been worse.” 

“How could it have been worse?!” Clyde groaned. The bus pulled up, and they could hear Cartman, Kyle, Kenny and Stan arguing before the doors even opened. Token grinned. 

“It could have been _that_.” Jimmy reached the street corner right before Clyde finished boarding the bus. 

“H-h-heya fellas!”

“Hi Jimmy! I didn’t see you around much last week, are you okay?”

“Ac-actually Clyde, I had a fan-a fanf-a fantastic time. I got to perform a comedy skit with T-t-ter-Terrance and Phillip.” 

“Woah, Jimmy that’s awesome! I wish I’d been around to see it,” Token said. 

“D-don’t worry, it’s on Y-youTube.” 

“Is that popcorn?” Clyde asked. Jimmy smiled and offered him the giant bag of popcorn he was carrying.

“I was almost l-l-late, because I stopped to make popcorn. I f-figured we would want some snacks as we w-wa-watch the sh-s-show.” Clyde and took a handful of popcorn.

“Jimmy you’re a _genius_.” They all settled into their seats, Clyde munching happily. Tweek found Wendy and started filling her in on everything the girls missed. The whole bus began shamelessly eavesdropping on the four in the back. Everyone had been anticipating the soap-opera worthy drama that was about to unfold.

“Kyle I said I’m sorry—” 

“Nope.” 

“Dude I’m so so so fucking sorry I swear I wasn’t thinking—” 

“Oh, you were thinking alright. You were thinking with your dick.” Stan let out a noise of mortification and hid his head in his arms. Kenny leaned over from where he was sitting next to Butters, tapped Kyle on the shoulder and pulled his hood down. 

“Hey, Kyle?”

“Yes Kenny?”

“I’m sorry about turning into a raging ball of hormones.”

“You’re always a raging ball of hormones Kenny, it’s just not usually directed at me.”

“Fair. No hard feelings?”

“Yeah, we’re good.”

“Sweet. K2 forever.” Stan looked up in indignation. 

“You’re forgiving Kenny but not me?!”

“Kenny harassed me less because he was distracted by Butters, and he was also less of a douche. Seriously Stan, the _football team?_ ”

“I don’t know! I don’t even like football! Come on man, why are you giving me the hardest time? You haven’t even ragged on Cartman that much, and he was _awful!_ He treated you like—like you weren’t even human! _”_

“Oh, I think that for once, the fatass has suffered enough,” Kyle said with a smug, vindictive smirk. Cartman was sprawled in his seat, looking like he was too damn tired to give a shit anymore. He muttered something about how he can’t believe he thought he was in love with a Jew. A Ginger Jersey Jew. His life is over. He’s never going to live it down. This is the worst. God, please, just take him now. 

“Kyle, please, I feel really bad about it—”

“Oh, YOU feel bad?!”

“I’m sorry!” Stan whimpered. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so so sorry I just don’t want you to hate me!” Everyone could see that Kyle was cracking in the face of Stan tearing up. 

“Dude, just because I can’t forgive you yet doesn’t mean I _hate_ you!” 

“I would! I would hate me forever and I kind of do, after everything I did, I was acting like, like a lovesick frat boy who can’t take no for an answer. God why didn’t I _realize,_ I should have tried to get myself far away from you—” 

“Dude.”

“You should throw me to PC Principal. He can rant to me about consent until I die.” 

“Dude!!! I would never do that—! Oh God fucking damn it—” Kyle hugged his friend, and the entire bus cheered. “Listen to me you pathetic son of a bitch! I know I can get through _anything,_ okay? After the whole Apple incident? It doesn’t get worse than that. So no, I don’t forgive you yet. But I also know that you weren’t acting like yourself last week. Nobody was. Which is the ONLY REASON I can say that you’re still my best friend. Now stop guilt-tripping yourself, alright? I’m the only one allowed to guilt-trip you.” Stan sobbed and buried his face in Kyle’s hat.

“You’re the best dude!”

“Sure, but can you stop crying all over my hat? I’m never showing my hair to anyone again, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t get snot all over it.”

“I fucking love you Kyle.”

“Honestly Stan, I think those words might be a trigger for me at this point so _can you not?_!” 

“Yeah, shit, I’m sorry.” Stan pulled away, taking off his hat to scrub at his face. A voice wafted up from the seat in front of them:

_“Faaags.”_

“SHUT YOUR WHORE MOUTH CARTMAN!” And then Stan smiled because he knew they would be alright. South Park would surely do what South Park does best: Forget absolutely everything that happened last week.

Wendy walked down the aisle to sit next to them.

“Hey Kyle, Tweek told me some of what happened, are you doing okay?”

“Eh. Okay is relative. I’m fine right now.” 

“Hi Wendy.”

“Don’t talk to me Stan.” Yeah. He couldn’t wait for them all to hurry up and forget. 

“S-s-so Craig,” Jimmy prodded. “You heh-haven’t told us anything about what you and y-y-your boyfriend got up to when we all lost our ra-rational minds.” He did a damn good impression of a Lenny face. Clyde and Token not-so-subtly leaned in to listen. Craig shrugged.

“Not much. I got addicted to cigarettes, Tweek turned into an Imp. We hung out with Thomas before he had to go back to North Park. Tweek actually became really good friends with him, which is awesome. They baked together, it was a complete disaster, Tweek managed to get a ball of cookie dough stuck on his horns and they were screaming pretty much the entire time, but the last batch came out good. Here, I have the whole thing on camera.” Craig brought out his phone and started showing them photos and videos of the great baking disaster that occurred in Tweek’s kitchen. 

“…Th-that’s it?” Jimmy asked, like the selfie of Craig flipping off the camera as Tweek flew around in a panic and an apron-clad Thomas wrestling a fire extinguisher while the first failed attempt at cookies slowly burned to charcoal wasn’t enough to meet his expectations. (At least Token and Clyde thought it was funny, Clyde wouldn’t stop commenting about how weird it was to see Tweek with goat legs, Token wouldn’t stop commenting about how stupid Thomas looked in that apron.) Granted, it was oddly… wholesome compared to the rest of last week’s events. So, he was probably right to anticipate something different.

“Yeah. We were kind of immune to the whole thing.”

“So y-you’re saying that you and Tweek were able to overcome your in-isnan-in-san-i-ty through the power of love?” Craig’s face turned red. Damn it. He had been looking forward to throwing out his Creek is both fanon and canon line.

“…Sure I guess. Something like that.”

“Awwww!”

“God damn it Clyde don’t coo at me—”

“S-sw-sweet.”

**Author's Note:**

> If I didn’t mention your favorite kid here, it’s probably because 1. I didn’t have the heart to make them suffer the chaos, I really didn’t. They deserve better. 2. It’s common for the fandom to forget them or for them to be treated as an afterthought. Which is like a get out of jail free card in this case.  
> I also hated how I characterized Pip so much. But sacrifices had to be made for comedy and considering he’s probably never going to show up in canon again, I would rather have him briefly appear and act like a complete moron than continue to be dead.  
> No shade to your ships if I made fun of them. No shade to the characters either. No shade if you’re someone who enjoys some of the tropes I mocked, I myself like some of them too. Just. No shade. It’s crack. Please don’t take any of this seriously.  
> Characters who were Partially or Completely Immune to the Fanon:  
> • Christophe, because he’s a paranoid bastard and I love him.  
> • Kyle, for similar reasons. Partial immunity meant he maintained his rationality but could barely control what he was doing and had to deal with his friends on top of that. Also, I know this read as implied non-con, but I swear the worst offense was an inappropriate butt-grope and the offender was probably Kenny. Kyle’s pretty shaken up, but he’ll be fine.  
> • Damien, because he’s OP’d like that, although his control was minimal once he left Hell.  
> • Reality, the only one who had the complete level of immunity Craig and Tweek had.  
> And finally, all kudos go to Kyle’s Birthday Story by Vampiracy, which was the first SP fic I fell in love with. I’ve wanted to write an epic crack fic ever since I read it and well… here it is.  
> Happy April Fools y’all.


End file.
